Public Life
by aquayao
Summary: "And so I see where two roads divide./A public man once his wife has died." Trigger Warning: Suicide


**Public Life**

**Thought I'd give it a shot. Hello, HG fandom! Most of this is head canon and my take on the character of Seneca. For Anna.**

"_Ladies and gentlemen, help me welcome Seneca Crane, our new Head Gamemaker!" Caesar Flickerman cried as the cameras focused onto a young man who waved and laughed for the crowds, his smiles causing young women to swoon and cry out "Seneca! Seneca!" The young man sat down beside Caesar, laughing a little more before the crowd calmed down. _

"Daddy look! That's you!"

"You're right, Andy. That is Daddy. He had his very first interview today." Seneca called from the kitchen. "It was very important for his new job." He continued to cook, listening as his son laughed along with the audience. Seneca grinned, pushing his sleeves farther up his arms. An avox stood off to the side, watching faithfully as Seneca cooked dinner for his family. The avox boy had only been bought a week ago, for nothing more than public image. He knew it, too; and though he could never express his thanks for his proper treatment and housing, the avox boy was thankful everyday.

The Cranes originally didn't want Avoxes- once Seneca and Celeste had gotten married, Celeste had asked if they could have a traditional home life like her parents had, so they could raise their child without the help of slaves. Seneca, at the every beck and call of Celeste, agreed. It was actually fun to cook meals all by yourself; it was a way to have independence in a world that pushed for luxuriant living. When the Cranes hosted, their friends would watch in disbelief as the couple bustled around in the kitchen, cooking and laughing as they went. Celeste's request for a regular home life also meant in appearance, which Seneca was happy to oblige. Celeste had told him he looked more attractive when looking "normal", and Seneca found his wife to be the most beautiful woman he had ever met, without any help from cosmetics. Normality was a time consuming job that Seneca looked forward to after his job as one of the Capitol's chief architects, building odd shaped buildings for odd shaped customers with ridiculous hair and make up made him homesick for his lovely, normal , the long hours were worth the happiness the comfort of his job brought to his family.

"_So tell us," Caesar leaned forward in is chair. "How did you land such a phenominal job? I bet it pays well." The crowd cheered. _

"_I'm an architect." Seneca explained. "The game makers liked my work, had me design a mock game and I guess they liked it!" Polite applause flowed from the audience. Caesar nodded and grinned. _

"_I'm sure your very first game will be astounding. We are all very excited- aren't we, ladies and gentlemen?" The crowd roared with applause and cheers. Seneca laughed and thanked the audience. "Now, let's talk about the man behind the games…what's your home life like?"_

"It's time to eat," Seneca called. He turned to the Avox, who had set the table for two. "Thank you. That will be all for tonight." The avox nodded and left. Within moments a small boy the age of four ran into the kitchen. His black hair bounced around as he ran, and his green eyes looked up at his father with a wide grin to match his eyes. "What's got you all riled up, Andy?" Seneca asked, laughing as his son wrapped his arms around his father's leg.

"You talked about me on tv!" The boy was breathless. "You said that you have me at home."

"That's right! Did you like how Caesar tried to say your name?"

"_Andromycus." Seneca repeated._

"_Andro-citrus?" The crowd laughed. "Andro-mike-us!" Seneca was laughing as well. The gag went back and forth as Seneca would correctly pronounce his son's name, as Caesar would think of another way to mispronounce 'Andromycus'. _

"Yeah!" Andy climbed up on his chair. "Is it really that hard to pronounce daddy?"

"Oh, no." Seneca sat down. "He's just a goofball, like you are." He ruffled Andy's hair before beginning to fill up his plate. "He said it right in the end, and signed a photo for you."

"_I have two of my own at home," Caesar chided once the crowds left. "Wonderful little things aren't they?" He laughed, signing a photo that his press secretary had brought out. "Tell him he's welcome in the studio any time we have you on the show." _

"Why didn't you mention mommy?" Andromycus asked, watching his father stop eating and put his silverware down slowly. He wiped his mouth with his napkin and shifted a little in his seat. Seneca didn't meet his son's eyes, reaching for the pitcher of water he had placed on the table earlier.

"Because mommy isn't here anymore. You know that, don't you, buddy? It's just us and the Avox boy."

"I know, daddy." Andromycus looked back at his dinner, picking at it. "I miss mommy. I wish you had talked about her in the interview."

What was there to talk about? Celeste Crane- formerly Harken- District 3 tribute and victor of the 64th Hunger Games. Beautiful, blonde, and fierce- three words that Caesar Flickerman himself used during Celeste's victory tour of the districts. Of course she caught Seneca's eye right away and he rooted for her, sponsored her, and designed her victor's apartment in the Capitol. His friends would tease him about it, sneer at him, and joke about how love-struck he was.

The night of the victor's ball, Seneca's father- a game maker and architect himself- requested that Seneca go in his place due to a headache he had contracted from the first of many meetings for the next game. Ecstatic, Seneca obliged.

The ball was a beautiful and had all the sponsors all in attendance, laughing and eating as always at Capitol events. A few sponsors at a time would take the famous "vomit inducing" pill and excuse themselve to the restroom, coming back moments later to fill up their plates again. Seneca searched for the beautiful blond tribute he had rooted for since day1. Finally, he saw her standing with her mentor and laughing. He approached, wiping the sweat off of his palms and fighting hard to stay on his path.

"Excuse me," He looked to Celeste, then her mentor. "Miss Harken- may I have this dance?"

The rest is obvious- marriage, a child, a promise of a long life together.

"Daddy?"

Seneca snapped out of his reverie, looking over to his son. "I'm sorry, sport." He sighed. "I got lost in my thoughts." Andromycus smiled.

"That happens to me all the time," Andy sighed, taking a bite of chicken. "I think about a lot of things, Daddy."

"Really now?" Seneca laughed. "What does a young man like you have to think about?"

"Everything! Today, Maizey Fae told me she wants to be president when she grows up."

"Just like President Snow?"

"Yeah, but not as scary."

"Watch what you say, Andromycus." Seneca's heart clenched. Were children always this open? It's true- President Snow was intimidating….but you didn't admit it. Not out loud. Especially not in the Capitol. "We must speak kindly about our President. What about you? What do you want to be when you grow up?"

"An architect! Just like you, daddy." Andromycus rolled his eyes. "What else would I want to be?"

Seneca beamed at his son, knowing that no one he would encounter from this point on could pay him a better compliment. No president, nor victor, nor gamemaker. His son was his only support system and it's all he needed.

"_They want me to be Head Gamemaker." _

"_What?"_

"_Exactly what I thought. Apparently, Snow loved my newest design for the gamemaker's suite and since he knew my father…well, he said that he "wants to see if game making runs in the family"." A pause between the couple, and Seneca rolled over to look at his wife- stunned to see tears rolling down her face. "Celeste?" _

"_I can't talk about this." She got up, throwing her robe on over her nightgown. Seneca laid back down, looking up at the ceiling. Perhaps Celeste was not the best person to talk to that about, he thought. If he did audition for the job, it would only be for the money and benefits it would provide his soon-to-be family. His wife, now 7 months pregnant, would be well cared for and their child protected. But would causing other families such pain and loss be worth it, just so his family could be happy and whole?_

Seneca wasn't ignorant to what victors went through after the Games. As the husband of one, he was the one waking her up in the middle of the night from night terrors and holding her until she stopped screaming. Calming her down night after night, promising that the morning would hold something worth staying alive for. Promising to never leave and always be there. Stopping panic attacks and making sure his wife was happy. The Hunger Games had made her life a living hell. Ironic, Seneca thought, how the one angel in his life had to go through such torture to find him and bless his life with happiness. A yin-yang sort of affect that kept him in a constant roller coaster of emotions with his wife. As long as Celeste was happy and safe, Seneca was happy.

Celeste never really talked about the games either. All Seneca knew about it was what he watched, and what he could gather from Celeste's mid-dream whispers and screams, waking up to find her drenched in sweat and playing with her hands. After a year of marriage Seneca tried to get Celeste to talk, but it was no use. There were many nights were Celeste was calm and collected, laughing and smiling before going to bed and sleeping soundly through the night. Celeste was a guessing game that Seneca never tired of. No, when you truly love someone you stick by them through their hardships. That's how Seneca was raised, and that's how he would live. Celeste mentored four games and helped raise her son for three years before the stress of it become too much.

"_Mr. Crane? There's someone outside who wants to see you." Seneca's secretary looked sheepish, standing in the doorway of the silver conference room. Seneca stared at her for a moment, searching for words before turning to the men he was presenting to. _

"_Excuse me, gentlemen. I'll be right back." He waved for them to stay seated as he hurried to the doorway, grumbling about how this man better be important. "Oh. Telcook." Seneca shut the conference room door behind him, not breaking his gaze from his friend, who stared at his peace keeper's helmet and turned it over in his hands. "Is Andy alright?" _

"_Andy's fine," Telcook choked out. "It's Celeste, Seneca. I'm so sorry…she was found in District 3…hanged herself…Seneca, I am sorry. If there's anything I can do-" _

"_No." Seneca leaned against the door. "Telcook…please, no." _

Andromycus lived with his aunt for a year before Seneca was ready to father again. He had shut down completely, leaving work and friends- having nothing but lonliness and drink. He shut himself away from the world, only coming back once his friends Telcook, Mirtsin, and Fretbel came to his rescue. They cleaned him up and prepared him for his first day of work in a year and once he had cleaned up enough, they sent for Andromycus. A few months after Seneca had gotten his life back together, he was informed that he had been established as Head Gamemaker.

The one job that promised stability also promised harming others like Celeste. Yet…it seemed like the ultimate way of proving he had moved on. That he had control of his life and emotions once more. So he took it, knowing that he had to be…that he _was_ right. Panem was going to remember his name.

"Daddy?" Seneca jerked out of his reverie, sitting up in his bed and turning the light on. He blinked in the light, eventually being able to see little Andy, clutching his stuffed dog. The boy's eyes shone and Seneca got up, picking his son up and holding him close. "I had a nightmare about Mommy's Hunger Games again."

"Alright," Seneca whispered. "It was just a bad dream, sport. You're going to be okay. I'm here. Daddy's here."

Andromycus felt secure in his father's embrace, knowing that his father would go to the ends of the earth to keep him safe.


End file.
